


Ellison's Solution

by ksrandomme



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Related, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:24:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksrandomme/pseuds/ksrandomme
Summary: Taking up where Sandburg's Problem left off. Blair shares his feelings on a few home truths.





	1. Starting out on the right foot

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).

  
Author's notes: First movement  


* * *

Lips, tongue, teeth, breath, hands, fingers running up my spine and into my hair, gods what the hell! He’s kissing me… kissing me back… this was not, I mean I wasn’t expecting him to… oh Blair shut the hell UP! Whatever I had expected to happen, that was way so far from here right now. He’s holding me like I’m something fragile, his hands gliding down over my shoulders and back to wrap me tightly into him, making me whimper. I am whimpering, right? That is me, not Jim?  
  
I’ve been wanting something like this for so long that I can’t believe I nearly missed it. I know I missed the clues, wherever they had been hiding under the tough Ellison skin. All his emotions that he keeps bottled up inside, how was I supposed to know that this was one of them? And just what brought this on, I don’t know. And frankly, right now, I don’t really give a damn.  
  
The kiss is over way too soon for my happiness, but I can’t complain. I loved what I got. Pulling back from me, giving me room to breathe I suspect, he tries to catch my eyes. I don’t know if I want to look at him. He might misinterpret my confusion and I don’t think I could take his rejection so soon after his acceptance. Gods, what brought this out? What’s been going on that I missed?  
  
My emotions are still flipping from one side to the other. I’m angry about the stuff he said, as if he knew what Carolyn and Sam said to me that… that night… oh gods… Just what does he know? What did he learn and how long has he known? My heart’s now going so fast I’m scared it’s going to burst from my chest. I fight to take deep breaths as he takes my hand and leads me to one of the couches, sitting me near the corner table so that he can sit opposite me on the other couch.  
  
He wants to talk, wants to ask something, but he’s hesitant. Whatever he might have wanted to say, all he gets out is, “You okay Chief?”  
  
Okay… What the hell is okay anymore? I’m a male cop who just kissed, and was kissed by, his equally male cop roommate. What about this is okay? I ask you, don’t I look okay? Well? Don’t I?  
  
Shit…  



	2. Take a step back

  
Author's notes: Pause for confusion, the step not expected.  


* * *

Lost… ultimately that was the only feeling I could identify in the confusion of that kiss. I felt lost and confused and… and Jim was there, sitting across from me… with that intense gaze. I could feel that gaze, so strong so fierce. Waiting for something, hoping to hear whatever it was he thought I should say.  
  
But I didn’t know what to say. I was without words. Without direction. Without explanation. This was a first time for me and I felt embarrassed for it. All I could think was, what the hell were we going to do? I had just kissed my very male roommate, who happened to be a cop. And he had… kissed… me… back.  
  
Oh gods.  
  
I began to shake and my eyes glazed seeing nothing. So wrapped up in my fear like I was I totally missed when he moved, so his fingers on my chin gently urging me to look at him startled me. As I focused on his icy hues I realized that, like me, Jim wasn’t certain what to think of all of this either. For some reason that left me feeling oddly reassured.  
  
Where to start? Do I apologize for the kiss? No, because I’m not sorry. Do I ask him why he kissed me back? I don’t think I want to know. Do I confront him about Carolyn and Sam? Hell no, I don’t even want to talk about what they said that night.  
  
I know my silence is confusing him. We are in the same boat, my friend. Friend… partner… roommate… lover? No, not lover. It was just one kiss. One kiss that felt so good, so right… Perfect. But dangerous, so deadly. I don’t want to hurt him, never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to know.  
  
Why does this have to be so hard?  
  
My silence must have been too perfect. He fixes his gaze to mine and asks the one question I wasn’t expecting.  
  
“When did you first realize you had fallen in love with me?”  
  



	3. One step forward, two steps back

  
Author's notes: The recovery dance is slightly losing ground.  


* * *

“Love?” Ok, not the most articulate response I could have made. He threw me off guard with the bluntness of it. Right there for both of us to see, to deal with. Love. I hadn’t thought about what I was going to say if the question ever came up. Hell I had never planned to tell him anything about my feelings for him. I thought I had a pretty good handle on my emotions when it came to Jim.  
  
Guess I was wrong.  
  
How to say this without giving the whole game away, that’s what I was stalling for now. I mean, just cause he kissed me at the door does not mean he feels the same things I do. It could very well have been reaction more than anything else. He’s done it before. Fear-based response, hell I wrote a whole chapter on it. I felt I had a pretty good idea what he was feeling. I’ve lived with the man for four years; I’ve seen him at his best and his worst.  
  
I figure I’ll go with the cool, calm approach. Not agreeing outright or anything like that. Simple statement of facts. “The first time I felt an interest in you was when you threw me against the wall of my office.”  
  
Jim nodded, as if this made all the sense in the world. His straight roommate has had a thing for him for years, sure why not. I waited for the other shoe to drop.  
  
“Have you… um… ever entertained the thought of… well others… other men?” He was trying so hard to make this sound normal. But it's not normal damnit! It's all fucked up now. My eyes dropped to stare at my hands. I really didn't want him to be able to see so clearly into my soul. But it seemed he wasn't going to have any of that cause the next thing I knew he had moved from where he had been and was now settling in beside me on the couch. One of his arms went around my shoulders and pulled me into him and the other hand reaching out to again grip my chin so that he could raise my eyes to meet his. He was almost daring me to pull away too, but I didn't. I managed to meet his gaze and hold it.  
  
“Have you?” he repeated. For a moment I nearly forgot myself, this close to my ultimate dream. I almost kissed him again. That would never do.  
  
“No, Jim, I’m not Gay. Can we talk about something else now?” I stood up quickly and pulled away from him, only to end up pacing over to the balcony doors. Standing inside I could note how the heavens seemed to match my mood even as I stayed safely indoors. It was cold outside, a day full of bleak shadows and dark skies.  
  
Now if it would just rain, it would be perfect.  



	4. Take a step to the left

  
Author's notes: Step to the left and turn to the right  


* * *

“I think maybe it’s time for me to move out.” Yeah, and where did THAT come from? Did I just say that? I mean, really, is that me? Glancing over my shoulder I can see that Jim is just as surprised as I feel.  
  
“Where is this coming from? Is this Carolyn or Sam?” His accusations hit just a little too close to home. I spread my arms out wide, turning back to him, letting him see it all.  
  
“This is me, man. This is the ex-anthropology student who is playing at being a cop who is your partner and could really get you killed with something stupid. I’m still a rookie for all intents and purposes here. I need more time and I know I can’t take the time for that. And it’s not like you really need me anymore when you can have any partner you want…”  
  
Um, I think I said something wrong. He’s on his feet in an instant, crowding me back against the smooth glass of the balcony doors, and boy am I glad the latches on those things are so tight, no chance of them popping open and dumping me on my ass.  
  
“You are my partner, Chief. You, no one else.” And really, how can you argue with that much patience, that much conviction… that much, faith? Have you noticed how stupid I can be, for one of genius status even?  
  
“So instead of my getting you killed out there on the street, I kill your career? No way man, I am not doing it. I’ll walk away first.” Told you I was stupid sometimes.  
  
Jim just looks at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his and sighs quietly. “Blair, don’t you see it? You’ve already walked away… you just haven’t made the next step of walking out that door for good. Now the question is do you want me to let you go? Or do you want me to drag you back?”  
  
Trapped. I’ve been trapped by my actions and his words. His physical presence before me means nothing. If I asked, he would move. I don’t ask him to move. I think I need him to stay where he is. In my fight to leave things normal, natural, in my struggle to be the kind of cop that others would accept, the kind of person that others can overlook, I’ve lost something very vital to me.  
  
I’ve lost… me.  



	5. Take it from the top

  
Author's notes: Watch the toes, let's try again... 1 and 2 and 3 and...  


* * *

“Jim… I think there’s something wrong…” Panic, pure and simple panic runs through me now. I’m confused, scared, frustrated, and generally angry. Something in me has been changing, something I didn't want. I’m not who I was. Who am I now? I can’t be a Guide if I can’t even see my own path.  
  
Pushing gently (Oh so gently, Blair. Let’s not scare off the man you have all these strong feelings for after all!) I look around the room trying to find what is different. I know there is something because something had to set all this off... right? Or maybe it was me. I set it off with my actions, my reactions...I glance over my shoulder to stare at my friend. My best friend, the one man I trust above all others to tell me the truth.  
  
“Jim, what happened?”  
  
He laughed… I mean really, is that appropriate right now? Maybe it was worse than I suspected in the first place. Sitting down hard on the sofa, staring incredulously, I await his explanation. My expectant face must have snapped him out of his temporary insanity. He sobered quickly, happy to give me answers finally, it would seem. “Well, Chief… I mean, um…”  
  
Ok, maybe no answers just yet. What, I won’t even let him call me Chief? Before I can digest that little nugget he’s talking again. “The truth of it, I didn’t notice there was that much of a change until a week ago. It dawned on me, the attitude towards your work, the attention you were paying to get things just right. Your… hair… you cut your hair Chief…”  
  
That's when he broke. Tears began to slip from his eyes as he looked at me, really looked at me and I knew - I had gone too far. On the pretense of trying to protect him I had taken away, literally stolen away, the something and someone Jim needed to survive. I'd cut my hair, changed my clothes and attitude, shit, I'd changed my entire fucking life. Stepped so far away from who I really was that it was like I had taken my soul and thrown it away like so much garbage. And Jim... Jim was trying to get it back for me. No, for the both of us.  
  
Cause my soul was more important than the rest of the world to him. Me, Blair Sandburg, neo-hippy, witch-doctor punk. Not Detective Blair Sandburg, ex-anthropologist turned cop. He was still looking for his Guide. I had taken away his Guide.  
  
“Oh, Jim…”  
  



	6. Getting the Rhythm

  
Author's notes: Blair's finaly getting it  


* * *

Its official, I suck. Let’s review.  
  
Six months and one week ago, I was confronted by two women, Caro and Sam. One was once my girlfriend and the other had been the most important woman in my partner’s life. Now these women pretty much called me hateful things (nothing new there), said stuff about me that made me feel self-conscious about my words, actions and self (again, nothing new there), and then they walked away.  
  
So, six months and one week ago I made a snap decision. Now notice I didn't say it was a good decision or a wise decision? Right, that's because it wasn't either of those, it was exactly what I said - a snap decision made entirely on the emotional backlash from the little visit I endured.  
  
My knee jerk reaction had me making drastic changes to protect my partner, my Sentinel. Or at least that is what I told myself. I shucked all my old ways. I changed my clothes, hair, attitude, and turned into a hard-assed, repressed monk of a cop. Sound familiar? It should. Simply put, I turned into what my partner started out as, the type of man I had worked so hard to pull him out of being.  
  
Six months my partner put up with the new and improved me, but then one week ago something happened. Something prompted him to find the clues and put together the case I was the victim of, even if I wasn't recognizing myself in the position. He dealt with the perpetrators and then went to do the next logical thing, deal with the victim - me. And what did he get for his care and trouble? Blasted to hell and back with a wall of repression and denial that you could cut with a fucking knife.  
  
With me so far? Good, cause now it gets better. See, when my partner confronts a problem, he does his best work physically. That’s where the kiss came into play. Kiss… lips, teeth and tongue. Marvelous. I’ll never have another like it. I don’t want another like it. I want more of them, lots and lots more. (Yeah so sue me, I'm greedy.)  
  
But I am still sorting through my head what changed. I mean, let’s face facts here, I didn’t change overnight and this is not going to get fixed over night. But it can get one hell of a jumpstart from me if I can focus on what I did. So I have to process it all in my head so I know what to do in the real world. What’s Jim doing while I’m so silent? He’s sitting beside me on the couch, his arms wrapped around me as if I’ll slip away any minute now. Cause I’ve gone back to something a bit more normal, something he understands. I’m processing, like the old Blair… like Chief would… not Sandburg the cop, but Chief, the Guide. He's finally gotten me back and he’s not letting me go.  
  
And this is me, processing.  
  
I'd changed my hair (something I swore I'd never do), my clothes (okay, they weren't a huge loss - but man I was seriously going to miss the flannel when it got cold), and I'd abandoned my academic nature to throw myself entirely into police work (again, not a bad thing - as I was now actually a cop).  
  
Okay so I had fully immersed myself in being a cop, as I said probably a pretty good idea now that I was a full-fledged officer of the law. Police work is important and serious and I would need to stay sharp to help my partner, but that I had packed away all my anthropology things, the books, trinkets, and artifact collections - that was mind-blowing. As was the fact that Jim had felt he needed to secrete them away after I had packed them in case I tried to throw them out. Scarier to realize he might have been right.  
  
“It’ll grow back.” I didn’t even realize I had spoken until I felt Jim shift position, bringing his nose to the nape of my neck, nuzzling the skin right under the edge of my curls. Oh… that’s what he missed… I like that… I could get used to that… I raise one hand, the one closest to him, and rub the short hairs of his neck, slide down to his cheek, keep his nose pressed right there, close so he can scent me.  
  
“I promise it’ll grow back.”  
  
  



	7. Keeping the beat

  
Author's notes: Bang the Drum!  


* * *

The rest is simple, about as simple as friends kissing each other against the front door can be. I had been screwed up and Jim fixed it. Well, he started the repair job anyway - I have a ways yet to go but between the two of us I'm confident we'll get there.  
  
Yeah, I said the two of us. We took that plunge. It's only been a week since two men, one desperate to escape and one holding on for dear life, collided at the front door and huge steps have already been taken. That very night I slept upstairs with Jim for the first time. We didn't really do anything that first night, except talk until we fell asleep cradled in each other’s arms. Reaffirming our connection and changing it at the same time.  
  
For the better, of course.  
  
The next day Jim convinced me that we should take a leave of absence, both of us, so that we could iron things out. I didn't want to, but he convinced me by telling me a bit of things from his perspective when I went all Franken-Blair. He was suggesting therapy, not a bad idea. The more he told me, the more I suspected I'd had a mild psychotic break. But the problem with that was that I'd taken the same courses at school as anyone I would go and see and that would make treating me very hard to do. The best thing for me really was just to be able to talk to someone unvarnished - not have to hold anything back or worry if I was making sense. After that I could talk out both sides of the situation myself and heal.  
  
Jim has some healing of his own to do too. He wasn't unaffected by my little run off the rails as much as he would like to think otherwise. But he’s working it out on his own, just glad for the main part that I am strong enough to deal with what had happened and to allow him to take care of me, watch over me, love me. Not that his loving me is a burden, but man, I challenge anyone to try and be strong in the face of Special Forces levels of mollycoddling. Eessh.  
  
Today though we face a new challenge. Today is our first day going back to work since Jim woke me up. He is standing by the door smiling at me as I walk to meet him. His gaze rakes over me and he says with satisfaction, "Looking good Partner, looking real good."  
  
Looking different, that’s for sure. I have my trademark flannel and earrings in place, one of my many tribal necklaces back around my neck. And a leather bracelet strapped to my wrist, Jim bought it for me. Its black cord with a stainless steel plate engraved with the Chinese symbol for strength and power. A reminder that I am much stronger than I give myself credit for and that my power is in being myself.  
  
I have butterflies the size of pterodactyls in my stomach. I know the changes are going to be obvious to our co-workers at the station - I mean, hello, detectives - but still, I hadn't given any thought to how they must have been just as affected by the changes I had made as Jim had been. I don't know why I never thought of it, they were my friends after all. But for some reason I had dismissed it until today. But Jim assured me they had been worried, maybe even scared for me. Hopefully seeing the 'old' me reemerging will go a long way to reassuring them.  
  
It's reassuring to me, even if it is only the most superficial of the changes I have made in the week I took to delve deep and really look inside myself. Sorting through everything, even with Jim by my side, has been hard. Hell, without him there, I have no idea how I would have ended up.  
  
No that's not right - I know exactly what I would have done and how I would've ended up without him. I would've been him before he met me for the first time and neither of us ever *wanted* to go there. I marched to the beat of a different drum. Jim took up the beat in order to stay with me. It was never supposed to be the other way around and thank the gods Jim knew that and pulled me back.  
  
Now we were again marching to the beat of our own drum... just as it should be.  



End file.
